


Do It Again

by orphan_account



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F, I'll accept prompts over at my tumblr, Yeah I'm Doing This
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of Flaritza one shots. Some will be entirely AU and may or may not contain smut depending on prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you fell asleep and i started making funny faces at your kid to keep them amused and the steward mistook us for a couple AU

Flight 179 was delayed, and the newly dubbed ‘Flaca’ Gonzalez was bored.

Her phone battery had entered the red a half an hour ago and time ticked by slowly without her music. She never liked airports even with the familiar comfort sounds, and the longer the delay lasted, the more her post-break-up holiday seemed like a stupid idea.

Like the entire universe had set out to make her uncomfortable, the terminal was full to bursting. The heat had built up steadily during her two hour wait, and the noise left her head pounding. Flaca could almost feel her eyes becoming harder and harder with every baby’s cry or teenage giggle but she didn’t care. She should have been flicking through the shitty plane magazine by now, not listening to screaming kids and their arguing parents.

Flaca breathed in a slow breath, fanning herself in a lazy attempt to fight the stifling heat. She should have gone easier on her phone, or maybe brought a book like her Mama told her to, but she was here now, and the only entertainment was a television with no audio and a small pile of magazines she had already flipped through. She slumped in her seat, glancing at the clock again. Just one more hour, and it would be nothing but sun and shopping.

When the seat beside her dipped with weight (which she had sort of emotionally accepted would happen, the place was full), Flaca couldn’t help but glance over at the kid that had taken it up with a frown. She couldn’t have been more than three or four, and she sat with her short legs swinging over the side of the seat confidently. She was alone and Flaca was at a loss. Wasn’t she meant to report shit like this? Or ask her where her Mami was like in those white girl movies?

Thankfully, the kid bet her too it.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, in a voice that was way to high-pitched for Flaca.

“Hey.” Flaca echoed her in a voice flat enough to hopefully discourage the child but not offend. The last thing she needed was some pissed off Dad harassing her for the rest of the wait. Instead she went with her Plan A. “Don’t you got a parent around or somethin’?”

The child’s head bounced erratically, and for a moment Flaca wondered if she would hurt herself. Her wild hair was everywhere, and the guy beside the kid levelled Flaca with an angry expression that she had already mimicked back before thinking better of it.

“She’s in the toilet,” The girl replied, and Flaca’s attention shifted back down to her. “-Told me to go find somewhere beside someone who wasn’t scary, like  _that_  guy.” She gestured very openly towards one of the beefier men in the waiting area, who was scratching away at his jeans and staring blankly out at the planes in the terminal. “He’s fuckin’ scary.”

Flaca raised her eyebrows, her attention lost again to the flight screen once she fell silent, and nodded her head. She had never been at her best when it came to children. She knew herself that she was too quick to anger to really get along with them, and besides, they were disgusting at the best of times. This kid wasn’t too bad so far, but she imagined that she’d rather keep her distance, until a thought struck her.

“I’m not scary?”

The girl’s grin spread across her face fast, and she giggled. “No.” She shook her head. “You’re not scary. You’re just tall.”

Flaca smiled, narrowed eyes softening a little. “Fine, sit and wait. But only until she gets back.”

They fell into a brief silence, the kid humming quietly while Flaca remained accurately aware of her presence, sitting up a little straighter now. How long does it take to go to the bathroom anyway?

“Juliana?”  _There!_  That was the concerned parent voice. Flaca felt the tension in her shoulders melt away a little with the loss of responsibility, and sank further into her seat again. Her fingers itched to seek out her earphones (dead as they were) to avoid any more conversing with strangers, but she fought it away. Even ‘Juliana’ would call out her bullshit if she tried that one. It was the oldest (and shittiest) trick in the book.

While she had been lost in her thoughts, Juliana had signalled over to her mother, waving around in that over enthusiastic way that children do, and the feeling of another person entering her space caught Flaca’s attention quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Juliana being scooped up and another body fall into her place. She took a chancy glance over and her eyes narrowed. Juliana’s mother was staring right at her, and she was nothing like what Flaca had expected.

She was young, probably not even two years older than Flaca herself, and the idea that she was travelling alone wasn’t lost. She murmured a greeting, coupling it off with a weak smile, and Flaca smiled back. She thought that would be the end of it, but this family were talkative. “Thanks for letting her sit. I hope she didn’t annoy you, but she’s loud.”

“She’s fine,” Flaca replied, finally giving up and fully turning to face her. She was already about to speak again, to tell this stranger that she had a good kid and not to stress, but suddenly she forgot exactly how to do that, because this woman had the whitest teeth ever and she was grinning at her. “Mostly quiet, actually.” She was only vaguely aware of her hands twisting together in her lap. She actually felt a little dizzy too, like she had stood up to fast after waking up.  _Must be nerves_ , Flaca thought, _about the flight_.

Flaca turned away, only for the excuse to close her eyes for a moment. She knew better, but she brushed it aside. She was just missing Ian. Getting over such a long lasting relationship was hard and the mini-crushes were just her personal way of speeding it up. It always happened. Not usually with girls but she had been around long enough to be over those kind of freak outs, and had just ignored it like she did any men she had noticed in the past.

The boarding signal finally boomed over the intercom, in a scratchy, barely definable voice that gave instructions that no one could really understand. Flaca was up in an instant, her legs begging to be stretched. Too late, she realized that she should have used her time to walk around and relax, before sticking herself in a plane for hours with no relief, but it didn’t matter. She grabbed her bags up, and offered a glance to Juliana and her mother in parting before spinning on her heel and marching towards the gates.

The trip into an airplane always felt very alien to Flaca, like those old horror movies with cardboard sets. They never even tried to make it seem more casual and following and the beige walls, floor and ceiling did nothing for her. Still, those walls meant holidays, and she was wading carefully into the plane in minutes, lifting her bag a little to cause less fuss. She just wanted to get to her seat and close her eyes.

She was just about to lock her bag away in the overhead locker when something near her knee caught her eye. “Juliana?”

Juliana smiled up at her, missing teeth all bared. “These are our seats.” She said. Flaca glanced up at her mother, who had raised her eyebrows in way of greeting, and was struggling with her bags. Flaca immediately moved to the side, and Juliana slid quickly into the window seat, which wasn’t hers, but Flaca let her have it, and bent down again to heave one of the bags into the overhead compartments for her new seatmates instead.

“You don’t have to-“

“It’s fine.” Flaca fought the bulging suitcase into its place, turned just in time to catch the other woman’s grateful smile and catch the edge of the bag she was lifting before it fell backwards back onto her. “You’re too short anyway.”

All she got in response was a scoff and playfully narrowed eyes while Juliana’s mami settled into her seat and buckled her little girl up. Flaca slammed the cabinet lid down with as much force as she could muster (and still half expected it to pop open again) and followed. “I’m Maritza, by the way.”

“Flaca.”

Maritza scoffed. “It suits you. You’re lanky as fuck.”

Flaca rolled her eyes. “Better than little, at least the top shelf isn’t off limits for me.”

Juliana’s entire body turned to watch them, and Maritza’s head fell a little bit to the side. Finally she smiled. “Okay, okay you’re alright.”

* * *

 

The flight was long, and Maritza was drifting in and out of sleep. Usually, plane journeys kept her awake and alert with the sound of the engine whirring, the constant chatter and, more recently, Juliana complaining about her ears popping or about how she needed to pee. However, this was her first lone with trip with her daughter, and somehow she just couldn’t keep her eyes open no matter how hard she tried.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should be more aware. Juliana never sat still on planes and in the half hour she had stayed conscious and talking, the stranger, Flaca, had been dragged into conversation with the curious little girl. Question after question, Flaca had answered them all in perfect deadpan with a quick glace over at Maritza after every one.

In her sleepy state she to admit that Flaca was cute. The way she smiled was jerky and built up slowly to teeth, and it made her want to smile too. She teased relentlessly and it was fun .Plus, Juliana loved her, and Maritza trusted her kid’s judgement.

“Hey, you want anything?” Maritza hummed, shaking her head, but she was awake now. Still, she didn’t open her eyes to address Flaca any more than that. She heard Juliana giggling.

“That’s so weird, she never sleeps…”

“On planes?”

“Yeah.”

Maritza sighed, but said nothing. She could feel herself getting tired again, slipping back to sleep, when she heard the creaking wheels of the stewardess’ cart and Juliana’s voice. “Can I get something?”

Flaca waited a beat to reply, and Maritza almost just spoke for her, but was just a little behind. “I guess.” Flippantly spoken. Maritza almost wanted to roll her closed eyes.

She listened to them buy some candy bar, and heard the wrapping being torn apart by eager hands. Juliana had always had an overactive sweet tooth. Flaca shifted beside her, digging through the coins in her pocket to pay, and huffing at the sight Maritza imagined Juliana had already made.

“You make such an adorable family.” She didn’t know that voice, and her eyes flew open and the same time she heard Flaca clear her throat.

But the stewardess had already upped and moved another row down and calling her back would be strange, and they found themselves facing off. “Sorry,” Flaca spoke first. “That was me. We were playing while you were asleep.” She tilted her head over at Juliana, who was still munching on her treat with no regard for their awkwardness. “Well, she was talking to me a ton anyway.”

“Look, it’s nothing, it’s fine.” Maritza whispered back, tilting her head towards her daughter.  _Don’t dramatize this in front of her._ Her eyes softened. “Thanks for buying her something. I know the shit on here is like, ten dollars.”

Flaca pursed her lips. “It’s nothing.”

“Thanks anyway.”

Maritza watched Flaca’s nervous grip on the armrest tighten, and leaned up to nudge her with her fist. It worked, and Flaca let out a long breath. She offered up a weak smile to Maritza and rolled her shoulders. Maritza’s eyes narrowed. Yeah… this ‘Flaca’ girl was definitely cute.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Stella starts hitting on Flaca making Maritza jealous

That new white girl was staring at Flaca again. That was the third time in one meal, and Maritza was sure she’d seen her wink once. It made her skin crawl in all the wrong ways.

She wasn’t about to bring it up to Flaca of course. Maritza had been wary of breaching that boundary since that Valentine’s night when Flaca had broken their kiss. After all, if she’d learned anything from Vause and Chapman’s loud screeching, it was to drop that kind of shit fast when it got weird for even one person. Besides, she knew that her best friend wouldn’t be into this Carlin chick anyway. She’d made her preferences very clear to Maritza already. Still, that thought didn’t quell the twisting in Maritza’s stomach or the way her finger’s itched to drag Flaca out of sight.

It was stupid, and she knew it, but she just didn’t feel comfortable around this new girl when she knew they had something like _that_ in common. Maritza knew they worked together now in that stupid factory, and had heard about the banter the group had in their new work as much as any other inmate. Her mind flooded with bad images and she closed her eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?”

She opened them again, and Flaca was looking at her from across serving area with narrowed eyes. She came late now that she was out of the kitchen. Maritza thought it was some ploy to piss off Gloria and taunt that she didn’t have to be hours early like the rest of them, but it gave them some time to talk at meal time again so she took it.

“Nothing.”

“It looks like something.”

Maritza made a face and loaded up Flaca’s tray before shoving it over the glass. Flaca’s smile dropped a little, and she didn’t even glace down distastefully at her food like she usually did. Over her shoulder, Maritza spotted Stella glancing up again and stiffened. It wasn’t fair that she could leer like that. It wasn’t right. She felt herself sigh before she could stop it, and her eyes refocused on Flaca’s confused face.

She simply smiled. “Just daydreamin’” Flaca didn’t believe her, she could see it in her eyes, but the guard on watch that day wasn’t having any of them and shooed her along. Maritza blew out a long breath, relieved, and went back to lounging around waiting for Gloria to tell her to gather up the leftovers. Flaca settled down beside the rest of Piper’s panty gang (her adopted meal family that still looked out of place to Maritza) and Stella moved in fast.

Ruiz scoffed and Maritza jumped. “What?” She snapped, turning her glare that had previously been directed at Stella her way.

Maria was still smirking, but went about her work quietly. “You’re embarrassing to watch.”

“What do you mean?” Maritza spat back. On the other side of the room, Flaca’s attention shifted over to them and she frowned.

Maria shook her head and shrugged. “I see things. You think you’re so sneaky and shit, but damn you have no idea what those words even mean, do you?” Ruiz gripped the edge of the empty beef stew tray and heaved it up to bring back to the kitchen, shooting a quick knowing glace back at Maritza as she left.

Maritza felt her heart rate pick up and held her breath. Caught. And by Maria Ruiz… she wasn’t sure if she’d give her up or not, but Maria seemed decent most of the time, if a little sad since she lost her baby. She was fine. It was fine. The knowledge didn’t settle the panic in her chest.

She leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. Flaca was looking at her all concerned and the childish part of her broke into a grin. Maritza nodded and Flaca smiled, going back to shifting through her food looking for edible bits, placated for now. She didn’t know what had happened, but she had her back. It felt good.

Still, Maritza’s gaze shifted over to Stella again once Flaca went back to eating. On the other side of the table and one seat down, she was sitting with her back to her. Maritza breathed slowly, like she was taught to do, once her feelings got too big to handle.

She was laughing at something Chapman had said. Probably something college-y and annoying, but it actually made Maritza smile this time. Stella Carlin wasn’t her biggest problem. Not by a long shot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Flaca and Maritza have been sneaking around to makeout/have sex/both (whichever you're fine with) but they get caught by one of the others in the kitchen

There was something about Halloween that Maritza loved. The lights and the characters and the decorations never failed to excite her. Prison hadn’t changed that. True, toilet tissue ghosts and toothbrush skeletons didn’t have the same fright value, but they were still charming.

However, working on Halloween wasn’t as fun, which was something Maritza came to learn fast. After skipping out on the most part of last Valentine’s Day with Flaca, Gloria was giving her the evil eye whenever she began to relax and enjoy it. It knocked her night’s plan for a loop and she couldn’t quite swallow the disappointment.

Maritza tossed the new batch of grey looking macaroni into the serving tray, and her eyes searched the crowd for Flaca. She was off talking to some stranger on the dancefloor, like she was most of the time since she left kitchen duty. Maritza’s stomach felt heavy.

Flaca liked the holiday too, she could tell, no matter how much she protested that it was stupid. She still grumbled and whined when Maritza dragged her into the kitchen (with the excuse of helping to decorate cookies), but there was a certain glint in her eyes when she spotted the red and black frosting. She wasn’t even mad that she was working overtime drawing bright red vampire fangs on both a full tray of treats and Maritza’s chin, and that really gave her away. It was cute.

The memory just made Maritza sadder. They had had plans for that night. Couldn’t Gloria just let her go for an hour? The night was coming to a close and every time she glanced at that clock, Maritza became more convinced that it was a lost cause. They couldn’t break curfew, and they both knew that the bunks were off-limits for those kinds of meetings; it had been the first thing they decided when they came up with their rules. It was actually depressing.

The kitchen was empty when she returned to rinse the pan. It would almost have been freaky, if she couldn’t hear the ‘The Monster Mash’ playing faintly outside, as well as the laughter of those not forced to work. Why people had decided the kitchen was such a good job was beyond her. They missed every holiday.

“Everyone is leaving.”

Maritza knew who it was, but she jumped anyway. “Jesus, you can’t just sneak around like that! I almost pissed myself.”

Flaca glanced around before beckoning Maritza into the storeroom. “It was this or volunteer to help, and that shit is just suspicious.” Once she was close enough, Flaca pulled her into her arms. “Hi.”

Maritza grinned. “Hi.” She didn’t hesitate to turn on her charm, her hands running up Flaca’s arms feverishly.

Finally, she got her kiss. Hidden behind a stack of boxes and still wearing her hairnet, but she got it. Pretty much exactly how she imagined. It wasn’t perfect, but then again how perfect could a secret prison tryst really be?

Still, the feeling of Flaca’s hands slowly running lines up and down her back, pulling her close, was good. The pressure of her lips sent shocks through Maritza’s whole body and left her knees shaking, like an idiot teenager. She was almost embarrassed, but when Flaca’s grip finally settled on her hips and she pulled her closer, the feeling melted away, and all she wanted was more.

The quiet dark of the storeroom was almost romantic, like in those cheesy movies Morello always cried at, when the couple finally find themselves alone in the corner of a bar or on the living room floor. The kind of romance that really doesn’t seem romantic at all. The kind of thing Maritza always kind of thought was bullshit.

It all felt real in that chilly, dark prison kitchen.

Maritza’s arms wound themselves around her girlfriend’s shoulders, brushing her hair away from her neck. Flaca shuddered. Her lips parted and Maritza could feel her own breath being sucked right out of her by Flaca’s gasp. The thought barely even existed before she brought them together again, her hands tightening on any part of Flaca they could. Some small part of her was aware of the boxes that came crashing onto the floor when her back hit the shelves, but Maritza didn’t care. All she cared about was Flaca’s hands grazing the skin under the hem of her shirt and the heat of her body contrasting against the cold of the kitchen.

They were so absorbed in the kiss that they didn’t hear Daya’s muttered complaints or heavy footsteps until Maritza’s hair net and both their shirts had been discarded. Flaca’s back was against the cage by then, with Maritza’s teeth at her neck and both their eyes closed. Unfortunately, neither of them had been focused on the doorway, and so Daya was left clearing her throat to catch their attention.

Maritza moved first, looking up with wide eyes while Flaca seemed a little dazed for a moment before noticing. Daya just stared, holding another empty tray in a loose grip. Suddenly, she was glad she didn’t drop it, because Maritza was glaring like an animal and Flaca seemed stuck between fury and fear, which was no better.

“What’re you staring at, cabron!” Flaca spat. Maritza quickly ducked down and grabbed their clothes off the ground, shoving one roughly into Flaca’s hands. She hissed something in Spainish that Daya didn’t understand (besides a couple of curses) and quickly wriggled back into her top. Flaca sighed and did the same, her back still to Daya, and let Maritza lead the way.

Daya almost smiled. She and Maritza both knew Flaca’s temper was quick at the best of times. Not the best lead for the show Daya knew they were about to perform.  

She was right. Maritza cleared her throat and straightened her hair a little before speaking, standing as tall as she could. “You’re not gonna say anything to anybody.” Her tone was hard, but her hands shook.

Daya did smile at that. “Why not? What can you do to stop me?”

Flaca scoffed. “It’s two against on, puta. Who’ll believe you over both of us?”

“Try everyone.” Daya was quick to reply. She was bluffing, but it was fun to watch their hackles rise in panic. It wasn’t hard to get a rise out of the pair, but that didn’t mean she was going to pass up this _goldmine_ of an opportunity. “You haven’t even done anything to piss me off, why would I spread shit?”

“Look,” Maritza was losing steam, and Flaca was just getting antsier. “Don’t tell them. Please.” She was staring up at her with huge, scared eyes and Daya felt a little bit guilty. “I know they aren’t into this kinda stuff, but…” She trailed off.

Daya felt a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew what hiding was like, and she talked to the other clicks more than the rest of their group, so she knew more about ‘dyke drama’ (or that’s what she once heard Nichols call it). She watched Flaca’s gaze fall down to the other, and saw her move closer, brushing her arm against Maritza’s to relax her. She watched Maritza glance up and subtly grab hold of Flaca’s sleeve to hold behind her.

“I won’t tell.” Daya said, smiling weakly. “Don’t worry. I know what it’s like to keep secrets. But you guys need to be smarter. Half the prison was out there like ten minutes ago. You’re crap at this.”

She could actually see the duo deflating in relief, shoulders slumping and breaths coming naturally again. Almost in sync.

Daya set down the tray and flexed her fingers. “Just keep that shit outta the kitchen, we cook _food_ in here, and I don’t want to think about your fluids on these counters.”

Flaca smirked. “I bet you and Bennett fucked on them.” She said, and Maritza grinned, releasing Flaca now that the threat was gone. “It’s your fluids we gotta worry about.”

Daya scoffed, and waved her hand while she spun on her heel to leave. “Whatever.” She muttered. “Just hurry up and get out, Gloria is looking for Maritza.”

“Holy shit.” Maritza whispered once Daya disappeared.

“Yeah, that was heavy as fuck.” Flaca breathed out heavily. “Daya _saw_ us.”

“I know.”

“What’ll we do?”

“Nothing, I guess. She said she wouldn’t tell.”

Flaca sighed. “And we got no choice but to just believe her.”

Maritza shrugged, but linked their hands together anyway. After a moment, she smiled. “At least Daya doesn’t care, right?”

She shouldered Flaca, hoping to get her to smile. It would all be okay if she’d smile. Flaca rolled her eyes. “Yeah… we’re fine.”

“You think?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “It’ll work out… worst case scenario, we have to be extra nice to Daya.” Maritza scrunched up her face at that but Flaca smiled. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“She’ll forget in like a week anyway, pregnancy hormones fuck up your head like that.” Maritza said, confidently.

Still, both of them had a heavy stone settling in their belly. It was all getting very real.

Plus, they needed a new place to make out now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Flaca finds out about the creepy Donuts guy from Big Boo and threatens him if he tries to harm Maritza

“We gotta tell her.”

Boo groaned. Ever since they had spotted a particularly bubby and excited Maritza shaking hands with Officer Coates as the new van driver, Doggett had been (understandably) on her case about bringing it up to Maritza, or even Mendoza as a last resort. It made sense to tell her, but the girl had bounded off pretty fast once she had introduced herself, and now they were faced with the task of trying to sit her down and explain.

“It’ll look weird when she just pulls out…” Boo muttered, hands running through her short mop of hair. “We need to give her an excuse; they won’t just move her back.”

“She still has to know!” Pennsatucky hissed back. “Her giant Mexican family will do something, then it’s not our problem, _and_ we don’t gotta feel nothing about it if something happens.”

“We’ll just freak her out if we go to her. Girls barely old enough to have a driver’s license, something tells me it wouldn’t take much for her crash and lose it… then again that could work…” Boo trailed off, and Doggett leaned heavily against the chain link fence behind them. “No licence means no driving, after all.”

Doggett sat in silence for a moment, but Boo knew a bad thought had struck her by the twitches at the corner of her lips.

The ground was damp, and Boo wanted to stand up and stretch, but the air between them was heavier now that someone else was involved. Suddenly, Doggett pulled up a handful of grass and shredded it between her fingers madly, before throwing it too the wind as hard as her scrawny arms could throw.

“Even if we get rid of her they’ll just get someone else to drive, and someone else after that, and someone else after that…” Pennastucky’s throat was closing up and her words were pained. Boo wanted to reach out and comfort her but she felt like maybe she just needed to rant for a moment. “We can’t just scare everyone away from the job!”

Boo sat quietly for a moment, weighing their options. Of course, they _could_ just keep scaring people away from the job. Maybe just leave someone there for a week and then get them out, but that would be a quick way to make enemies once half the prison realized that they were letting them near a known rapist, and Boo didn’t need any more enemies. There weren’t many more alternatives. It wasn’t as if they could warn the whole prison.

It wasn’t until a few minutes of deep thought and a scratch to her panty-lined hip that the idea began to form. It was _perfect_. It was only slightly flawed. It would work.

* * *

 

They found Flaca alone, sitting slumped in the canteen over her blended breakfast, the next day, and descended fast with matching dark looks and sombre eyes. Flaca didn’t know what was coming until they had closed in on both sides and started speaking.

“We have news.” Boo said, and Flaca jumped, still a little bit dazed from sleep. She rarely showed up as early as this, but something had woken her the night before and after the rough night she just wanted food.

It barely took a second for her eyes to narrow in suspicion. “What?”

“News. Comprende?” Doggett was clearly nervous, and kept glancing around like an animal in the zoo. Flaca still seemed confused and more than a little bit pissed over that jab, but the smaller woman’s demeanour sobered her up a little, and she looked to Boo instead. Doggett gave her a look. “Boo, tell her.”

Boo shook her head. “Why me? Don’t you want to?”

“No!”

Flaca went back to her food. “You don’t have anything to say.” She said, rolling her eyes and digging a spoon into her oatmeal. Boo was having none of it though, and slapped her hand back down when she tried to eat. “What the fuck?”

“Look, it’s about your girl, Maritza.”

That caught her attention. Flaca stiffened and turned her full attention to Boo. “What about her?”

“Trouble, and a lot of it.” Boo whispered. Pennsatucky glanced around the room, searching for guards that might be watched, but really only succeeding in making them look like they were breaking some rule. “Look, you know she got herself a new job, right? Driving.”

Flaca nodded. The way she breathed seemed forced. “Well,” Boo continued, sparing a glance to Doggett who gave her a nod. “That Coates guy… he’s a fuckin’ rapist.”

The response wasn’t instant. Flaca’s eyebrows knotted together and the steady rise and fall of her chest paused while her stomach clamped up. She muttered a string of words in Spanish and was up and busting her tray in a heartbeat. Doggett watched her storm out with a blank stare,

“She won’t hurt him to bad, right?”

Boo shrugged. “She’ll protect her tribe.”

“And she won’t just tell Maritza.”

“Probably not. _Something_ tells me she has a bit of a temper.”

Boo was almost sure that she wouldn’t tell Maritza. She might kill Coates, and if Maritza did find out she’d help dig the ditch to bury him in, but either way Coates wasn’t making it out of this one unscarred.

She wasn’t wrong of course, and half an hour later when Flaca was tracking Coates down the hall, about to pin him against the nearest wall and spit more creative threats than the man had ever heard before, Boo could almost smell the urine running down those hairy-ass legs from halfway across the prison.

The very next day, Coates abandoned van duty, claiming that the sounds of the van gave him migraines. He also steered clear of Maritza to the point that she pretty much forgot that he existed altogether, and Flaca lounged around the prison like she ruled the place for a whole month, but it was worth it for Boo to see Doggett relax again whenever a van left the grounds.

Plus, Flaca getting all protective for the foreseeable future was _hot_. Prime jerk off material.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Flaca becomes depressed at the state of her sick mom, and maritza is there to comfort her

Flaca had been hiding out in the chapel for a whole week now, and life in the Spanish Harlem was becoming strained. Well, not strained as much as just plain weird, but either way it wasn’t appreciated. The news of her ailing mother had spread fast through the prison. Too fast for them to set up guard and protect her.

The sly comments whispered through the canteen about her running eyeliner and slumped shoulders were beginning to ring in Maritza’s ears and she couldn’t even do anything about it. No one wanted to overstep their boundaries on the issue, and whenever people showed any pity Flaca just pushed them away. Then she started begging Chapman for money and helping at all suddenly just seemed pointless. She was beyond saving in most people’s eyes. She didn’t even talk to them about it anymore.

Maritza went with her sometimes, to visit the chapel and watch her pray. It felt strange, like being young again, to be asked to enter a sacred space without any real devotion to it. Of course, she was under no obligation with Flaca (besides showing solidarity), but the emotion was the same.

It was strange. They spent free time in silence most of the time and Maritza was beginning to wonder if she only spoke to people at work. Daya had once tried to lighten the mood and was shot down fast by her own mother before she could piss Flaca off. Most of them had noticed by then the way the elders had banded around Flaca’s grief, and no one was willing to rise against them so things were quiet.

It was Mendoza that let it slip to Maritza that Flaca’s mother was dying. Like for real dying, not just some slow cancer like Rosa had. She was on her way out real fast.

After that Maritza didn’t really feel like talking either.

Still, there was something about seeing Flaca’s expressions get more and more defeated that spurred Maritza to try. Anything and everything. She stole extra fruit cups, bought her Snickers bars from commissary, and even tried to bribe the supply truck guy to bring her an iPod (which played into almost being thrown back in SHU before she made like Crazy Eyes and backtracked). Nothing worked.

That was the thing about Flaca though; when she was upset she would stay that way until she broke on her own. So Maritza just hung around and waited. It was the best thing she could do for her.

It turned out to only take three weeks (during which she kept the fruit cups coming) for Flaca to talk.

It had stormed the night before, and the Whispers building had leaked so bad that work had to be held up for repairs for a couple of days. That left the staff without work and with more free time than they knew what to do with. Maritza’s warning bells were ringing straight away. It was gonna go down now or never. She knew Flaca.

It happened, right on schedule, the next day, when Flaca came storming into the kitchen after dinner and haunted the place like a banshee. Gloria eyed her up a little, and Big Diaz gave her some shit for not helping wash the pans since she was there and all, but otherwise, she was left to her own devices. Maritza tried to rush through her work, but prison was prison, and the load was huge. Mendoza couldn’t afford to spare a worker just to slow down Flaca’s mental health deterioration a little.

Still, as soon as she hung up her apron and tugged off her hairnet, Flaca firmly grasped her hand and pulled her steadily out of the kitchen and towards the chapel. Maritza jumped at the contact. Her whole arm felt the jitters of her first piece of human contact in weeks. It was like a watered down version of what she felt on Valentine’s Day. Her stomach lurched at the thought and she buried it down. Flaca needed her to be sympathetic, not some lonely (horny) idiot.

People watched as they stormed through the halls, looking with quick glances from the corner of their eyes. Maritza quickly diverted her gaze and stared at the floor instead. Now wasn’t the time to make a scene, and their stares made her stomach churn.

“Flaca,” Maritza only spoke when the heavy doors had shut behind them. “What happened?”

That was such a bullshit question.

Flaca just gave her a pointed glance and turned to walk down the aisle to her newly semi-reserved seat, and sat for a moment before shifting another in to make room for Maritza. Her hands were already clasped together and resting on the seat in front of her, her head bowed down almost touching them, before Maritza had made it down to her, and she didn’t expect any more attention for the night once she sat down. Comforting Flaca was a skill (if she was a bit more dramatic she’d even call it an art), and she had studied and learned it long ago.

Maritza closed her eyes. She could hear Flaca muttering under her breath; some barely audible prayer that she vaguely recognised. Silence was left to stretch.

“Maritza…” Her eyes flickered open at Flaca’s voice, soft as it was. The waver in it made her chest ache, like all the air had just been sucked out of her and there was no way to ever get it back. She focused in on her friend, seeing nothing but her sunken shoulders, and breathed deep.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

Flaca wouldn’t even look at her. She had always had way too much pride for serious emotion. Especially any that could paint her as weak. Maritza collected herself for a second and carefully let her arm rest on Flaca’s back. “You’re trying, mami.”

“Not hard enough,” Flaca snapped.

“There’s only so much you can do.”

“I need to be _outside_. Not fucking around in here earning nothing and not even getting to _see_ her.” Flaca practically fell out of her position, leaning back up against the seat and squashing Maritza’s arm. She rubbed violently at her eyes. “I’ll bet Pedro ain’t treating her right either.”

Maritza wriggled out from under Flaca’s weight to settle more comfortably, leaning a little on the armrest to be closer. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah.” Flaca didn’t sound convinced. In a quick strike, she lashed out and kicked the chair in front of them. The frame shook with the force. Maritza jumped. “Sorry,” Flaca sighed. “I just can’t be here right now.”

“I know.”

“And I won’t get furlough like Chapman…”

Maritza smiled. “Don’t have the complexion.”

“Mr. Healy doesn’t want to do bad, _bad_ things to me either.”

Flaca smirked and Maritza relaxed just a little. Still, a weight that had settled on her and made it hard for her to breathe. She couldn’t help this time, not really. Flaca was dealing with real life stuff now; not prison drama or flaky boyfriends or idiotic blonde panty-lords. This was real stuff that she couldn’t fix and it hurt that she couldn’t. Seeing Flaca get upset threw off her natural balance enough without the guilt of not acting to help. It didn’t mean she couldn’t try though, and maybe that would be enough to help.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about an angsty one where they are hooking up, but they have to deal with the fact that Flaca is getting out.

Maritza knew that it was risky. It could even be considered stupid in her case. It was much too visible. The chances of being caught were high, and she knew that even three months as an outcast was too much for her to bear alone. But still, when Flaca’s back hit the cold brick wall and her breathing picked up just enough to rasp, she didn’t really care.

The weather was just starting to get cold, and the chill felt like knives on her bare skin. She’d been dreading that icy wind since last Winter ended.

Her hands slid under Flaca’s shirt and Flaca’s stomach tensed at the touch of her frozen fingers. Maritza’s lips stretched into a weak smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Flaca whispered, a short string of rapid Spanish following after. “Fuck!” Her eyes closed and her head tilted back, her neck just begging to feel Maritza’s lips. Maritza scraped her nails along Flaca’s skin, moving around to quickly unclasp her bra in one practiced motion, while she stretched up to kiss and bite at exposed skin. It was all fine. Everything was normal. “Aye, not so hard, mami. No marks.”

Maritza hummed, wishing that they were anywhere else but prison, before letting up and diverting her attention elsewhere. The thought had knocked something out of her. It was too cold to really strip, so she slid her hands under Flaca’s bra, swallowing her moans with kisses while she palmed them. She could feel Flaca’s grip on her waist tighten and it made her feel even more restless. By accident, she let out the shaky breath she’d be been holding for too long. Her throat was aching.

Flaca’s eyes flickered open and narrowed. “That’s not a sexy sigh… somethings wrong.” She retracted her arms and folded them in front of her chest in a display of pure stubborn affection. “Talk.”

There was a pregnant silence, in which Maritza folded in on herself a little. Flaca was going to get out whether she whined about it or not, and she wasn’t about to hurt her for a foolish little prison crush. They’d never talked about what they were to each other past the first few days of its start, and Maritza didn’t want to make their last few days awkward with feelings that Flaca might not be ready to hear about. Not only that, but Ruiz’s words from the year before kept ringing in her ears. What if she was right and they had nothing in common? What if in reality they fell out after only a couple of hours and all she had were a bunch of feelings she never mentioned for a girl that had never really existed?

Even the thought made her feel a little lightheaded. She stayed silent.

But Flaca was intuitive, and could read her like an open (if slightly faded) book when she clammed up. Sure, she wasn’t patient and Maritza could wait her out like a stalking hunter but something in her broke when Flaca’s eyes narrowed and she felt a flare of anger sprouting through her. It shook through her body until suddenly she was spitting words she didn’t commit too.

“You’re leaving.”

“What?” Flaca’s eyebrows creased. She tried to touch her but Maritza brushed her hand away.

“You’re leaving. In like, what… a month? Three weeks? And you’re acting like it’s nothing.” Maritza ran a hand through her hair. “We gotta talk about that.”

There was a brief pause, before Flaca echoed herself, with a bit more of an emphasis. “What?”

Maritza blinked, bewildered. “Things will change when you leave.”

“How do you know that?” Flaca’s face softened. “You’ve been taking to Maria too much. She’s just sad and spreading bullshit. Relax.”

While she was speaking, she had found her way closer to her girlfriend, navigating her way around Maritza’s frustration as carefully as she could. She understood the feeling though. It had crossed her mind of course, that she and Maritza just might not be compatible outside but it wasn’t anything that had stuck. They had clicked inside for a reason as far as she was concerned, and it wouldn’t change just because they had more room. Maybe it was a little naive, but Flaca was sure she was right about this. She couldn’t _not_ be. They were borderline perfect.

“It happens to everyone… remember Mercy? She fucked off without even one visit once she got out! Honestly…” She trailed off, and Flaca’s stomach jerked violently. She could sense it going downhill fast. Maritza sucked in a quick breath. “Honestly I want to stop now if that’s what’s happening here.”

“It’s not!” Flaca glanced around to make sure her voice hadn’t attracted any eyes. “It’s not like that, you know it’s not.”

“I really don’t.”

“Well it’s not.” Flaca would have been embarrassed by how her voice wavered had she been speaking to anyone else. “I’m coming back the first day they let me, baby. C’mon.”

Maritza was getting agitated, her legs restless and her arms folding and unfolding like she was about to take a test or go into the dentist. Flaca was breathing hard by then, her heartbeat sounding loudly in her ears. This couldn’t be happening, not so close to them both getting out. Maritza shrugged, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m just thinking about stuff.”

“Do you really think I’ll ditch you like that?”

“ _Everyone_ ditches their prison fuckbuddies, Flaca.” Maritza stared her down, temper rising. “You’re getting out first so you get to be the one that breaks me and you don’t even talk about it.”

“Because I never planning on leaving you!” Maritza laughed bitterly but Flaca pressed ahead. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking too but that’s not us.”

“That line’s a cliché.”

“I don’t care, but you clearly don’t think I’m worth trusting. Thanks.” Flaca pushed Maritza aside and reached behind her to redo her bra, fixing the rest of her clothes quickly while she closed in on the door inside. She didn’t even have anywhere to storm away too, but she was going to give it a go. Until she heard Maritza sniffle.

It was very faint, and not being a sound she knew very well she almost missed it. It turned her around so fast she dug up some grass under her boots. There was Maritza, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “Mari…”

“I don’t want to be that girl.” Maritza murmured. “That one everyone looks at all pitying and shit. That’s all.” She opened her eyes. “I know you have better outside.”

Flaca smiled. “I really don’t.”

“You’ll find them.”

Flaca made her way back over to the wall, and leaned beside Maritza, as close as she could dare to be. “I’m going to come back. I’ll come back so much you’ll get mad that you have to do strip searches so often and tell me to fuck off. It’s only three months. Shit, you make us seem more dramatic than Daya and her baby daddy and I took pride in us for not reaching that level.” Maritza shook her head, but the beginnings of a smile were beginning to form, and she shuffled a little closer. “We’re fine.”

Her stomach ached with the ruminants of panic, but somehow she felt better now, like a weight had been lifted by an overly complicated display of affection. She could feel the heat from Maritza’s body and Maritza’s hand sliding along her own and felt weak in the knees as the adrenaline melted away.

“Okay.”

Maybe Maritza had been right about this talking thing after all.


End file.
